Book Read Free

The Military Wife

Page 7

by Laura Trentham


  He should be glad she’d given up and left. Instead of relief, disappointment coursed through him.

  Chapter 6

  Past

  “I’m not sure about this.” Noah smoothed the brown button-down shirt of his uniform.

  Bennett slunk down in the backseat and hung on to the headrest to keep from getting flung across the seat into Noah on every turn. Hollis was driving, the only one of them with a car on base, and he darted down side streets like the local he was.

  Hollis glanced up at the rearview mirror. “Not sure about what? Getting laid?”

  “I’m only nineteen for one thing. The club probably won’t even let me in.”

  Hollis chuckled, shook his head, and stopped short at the next red light. “Dude. That uniform you’re wearing is your ID and your panty dropper. That’s half the reason I joined up. Seen it all my life around here. The chicks go nuts over your bravery and shit. It’s not even a challenge, but I’ll take it.” Hollis exchanged a slapping handshake with Carter, who was sprawled in the shotgun seat.

  Bennett kept his response to an eye roll. Hollis and Carter didn’t like him, but the way they avoided him at chow time and the whispers that stopped when he walked into their shared room didn’t bother Bennett at all.

  But Noah had pleaded with him to come along, his nerves obvious, and Bennett couldn’t leave him hanging with Hollis and Carter as wingmen. That would have been plain cruel. Besides, seeing something beyond the concrete walls and the grinder while enjoying cold beer sounded appealing.

  Carter draped an arm along the back of Hollis’s seat and twisted around, putting his large hooked nose in profile. The setting sun highlighted the constellation of acne on his visible cheek. “By the way, if we find some willing women, you boys will need alternative transportation home.”

  Bennett couldn’t help but admire the man’s confidence, no matter how misplaced. “If you find a woman with beer goggles that thick then congratulations and have fun.”

  Carter’s eye narrowed on Bennett. The attempt at intimidation fell short. Way short. Hollis’s laughter was like an engine misfiring. “Ah, the boys in the back don’t get it. But they will.” Hollis and Carter exchanged another slapping shake that seemed congratulatory before they’d even walked into the bar.

  Bennett stared out the side window feeling a couple of decades older than Hollis and Carter. Not that he could fault them. Bennett had been them, or a lot like them, anyway, his first couple of years in the service. It was heady stuff until you realized the women only saw the uniform and didn’t care what was underneath.

  Hollis pulled in to the parking lot of a squat white cement club with a neon sign and arrow proclaiming Gin Boogie Bar.

  Clumps of people gathered around the parking lot, smoking and cutting up. From the corner of his eye, he caught the interested glances of a few women already. The bass beat of music thrummed his chest.

  Noah fell behind and Bennett slowed his pace. Hollis and Carter disappeared into the blackened maw of the club.

  Noah stopped and grabbed Bennett’s arm. He was looking around like someone might pull a gun at any minute. “This place is sketchy.”

  To Bennett it didn’t look any different from the dozens of other bars and clubs he’d walked into over the years. He clapped Noah on the back. “Come on. Let’s grab a couple of beers and get the lay of the land. We can always get a cab back to base.”

  Noah’s reluctance was palpable, but he stayed on Bennett’s heels. The black, three-hundred-pound bouncer on the stool out front waved them in.

  “He didn’t even ask for our IDs.” Noah had to raise his voice to be heard over the music and everyone else.

  Bennett hit Noah’s chest with the back of his hand. “It’s the uniform, man. Hollis is a horny idiot, but he’s right about that. Let find a spot at the bar.”

  Bennett scythed through the crowd, his uniform and size clearing a path, and he and Noah took up a corner of the bar. The female bartender walked over as soon as Bennett signaled with two fingers, wiping her hands on a formerly white towel thrown over her shoulder before propping her arms on the bar and leaning over.

  “What can I get you boys?”

  “An ice-cold longneck, if you have it.”

  She nodded, raising her eyebrows in Noah’s direction. He held up two fingers. She was back in thirty seconds with the beers, condensation dripping down the sides. Bennett drank half of his in one go, the cold slipping down his throat and through his body like nectar. It had been before BUD/S training since he’d had a drink, and damn, it was good.

  Noah killed his, too, and the bartender returned with two more without asking. This one Bennett savored. He turned and took in the scene.

  A dance floor took up the far corner, mostly populated by women and surrounded by men checking them out. Tables and chairs were strewn in the space between the dance floor and the bar with clumps of friends or couples sitting close. Waitresses circulated with trays lined with shots.

  A half hour passed with Noah and Bennett sharing two more beers. Two women approached, both cookie-cutter pretty but too drunk to carry on a conversation. When one of the women fell into Noah and he brushed her off like she had cooties, they moved on. Noah visibly relaxed.

  “You not interested in anyone or just them?” Bennett gestured toward the retreating women and sent a side-eye glance toward Noah. “Might be good to blow off some steam.”

  Bennett crossed glances with the bartender again. The heat between them sparked, the invitation as clear as if she’d spoken aloud. A non-Navy-issued bed, preferably with a willing woman in it, was almost too much to deny. Yet he didn’t want to leave Noah on his own. Or worse, at the whims of Hollis and Carter.

  “Nah.” Noah scuffed his shoe on the floor, his gaze lowered. “It wouldn’t feel right.”

  “’Cuz of that girl back in North Carolina?”

  Noah nodded and Bennett took another drag off his beer before answering. Considering his longest relationship was however long he’d spent on leave, Bennett was flabbergasted a relationship strong enough to survive months of separation had sprung up after a week.

  “Forget firecrackers, she must be a damn Roman candle in the sack.” Bennett chuckled.

  An unmissable blush ruddied Noah’s cheeks and cut Bennett’s amusement at the knees.

  “No fucking way.” Bennett turned to Noah. “You haven’t even had sex with her yet? And you’re hanging on like she’s the Holy Grail or something?”

  Noah turned to face the bar. “Jesus, could you keep your voice down. I know it makes me sound like a first-class pussy, but I can’t help it. She’s special, man.”

  “How can you even know that?” In Bennett’s experience, women seemed special. Until he got into their pants, and then they invariably tried to manipulate him or mold him into what they wanted. Because what they sure as hell didn’t want was a taciturn loner without any family and with even less charm.

  “We’ve been emailing and writing.”

  “And you two have some exclusive deal or something?”

  “We haven’t exactly talked about it.”

  Bennett rubbed his forehead. “Let me get this straight. She could be screwing the brains out of every football player on campus while you turn down a willing woman?”

  Instead of getting mad or defensive like Bennett expected, Noah laughed and with a smile still lingering said, “She is not out banging football players. Not her style. If she was going to bang any group, it would probably be the debate club or science bowl guys.”

  Bennett snorted, but something that felt like jealousy excavated a place in his chest. He crossed glances with the bartender, her smile holding promises of a mindless night.

  The appeal faded, and he scraped at the label on his beer, his eyes downcast. “What makes her so different from any other woman?”

  “She’s smart. And funny. And a little quirky. She grew up with no TV and only read books.”

  TV had been his constant babysitt
er. Mindless garbage, yes, but it had connected him to an outside world that wasn’t as bleak as his own.

  “Is she hot?”

  “She’s the kind of pretty that doesn’t need all the makeup and tight clothes.” Noah gestured toward a gaggle of women on the hunt. “Check out this last letter I got from her.”

  Noah dug out a piece of paper from his pocket and smoothed it out on the bar. The lined notebook paper took him back to high school. Bennett picked it up and tilted it toward the bar light. Her handwriting was bold and loopy and distinctly feminine.

  Noah,

  Hell Week sounded … hellish. Do you have any free time or is it all work, torture, work? My life is mostly study, test, study. But I did make friends with a couple girls in my dorm, and we went to a college bar to hear a band. They were loud. That’s about the nicest thing I can say. I had fun, though, and a couple of drinks. Purple Hazes. They were delish (and dangerous). Although, not to worry, my roommate has turned our room into the Virgin Vault. Instead of posters of hot musicians, she has the Madonna and Child on one side and Jesus on the other. I haven’t told my mom I’m living with a bible-thumper. She’s not exactly into traditional religions (understatement!). Back to studying for me. More push-ups and running and genuflections toward the Monster for you?

  Harper

  Bennett grunted. She sounded … nice. Too nice and sweet with no fire. Maybe that suited Noah, but he wanted a woman who challenged him and wouldn’t put up with his crap. He doubted such a woman existed. He refolded the letter and handed it back to Noah.

  “All right then, Peaches, no women tonight. Only booze and a little fun.” Bennett clinked the neck of his beer against Noah’s. His face flooded with relief.

  Women came and went and so did the beers. Bennett was feeling pleasantly fuzzy in the head when flailing arms in a tan shirt on the dance floor grabbed Bennett’s attention. Laughter spurted out of him, and he pointed. “Jesus, I never would have pegged Carter as a dancer.”

  Noah squinted and then collapsed against Bennett, laughing his ass off. Bennett hung on the edge of the bar, doubling over as Carter gyrated like he needed medical attention. Bennett wasn’t sure he’d ever laughed this long and this hard. Tears blurred his vision.

  Between his laughter and the alcohol slowing his brain processes, he didn’t sense the situational change until the first punch was thrown.

  He straightened and grabbed Noah’s arm, pulling him toward the dance floor. “Oh hell no. Fight. Let’s go.”

  While he didn’t particularly like Hollis or Carter, he couldn’t leave them outnumbered. Maybe they’d all make it through BUD/S and end up brothers-in-arms; maybe they wouldn’t. But, until one of them quit, they were bonded by a trial of fire.

  The dance floor had turned into a melee, women ducking out of the scrum and men joining it. Bennett waded in throwing elbows to heads to clear a path. Carter was being held by one man while another took a sucker punch.

  Bennett let out a deafening holler and grabbed the man who was doing the punching by the back of his shirt, spinning him around and landing a jab on his nose. He went down but had plenty of friends.

  Bennett and Noah ended up back to back fending off one man after another. Everyone was drunk and the hits and kicks were clumsy and off target. The adrenaline rushing Bennett like a tsunami eased his restlessness. Not as good as sex but satisfying in its own way.

  He laughed and head butted the same guy he’d initially punched. A man grabbed him from behind in a wrestling hold that effectively disabled him. Whoever had him was bigger, stronger, and sober.

  He was frog-marched toward the entrance, yelling obscenities and threats along the way. Six feet out the door, the man released his hold and shoved Bennett away. He stumbled before getting his feet under him and turned. Noah, his eyes bright and wild, walked out on his own steam. Hollis wandered in circles, rubbing his neck, and Carter sat on the ground, his head between his knees.

  The bouncer planted himself like a tree in front of them. “My brother is serving, which is the only reason I’m not calling the po-po to haul your sorry asses in. Now get gone before I change my mind.”

  Sometimes retreat was the best and only option. Bennett grabbed Carter’s collar and hauled him to his feet. “Wise advice. Thanks, man.”

  Bennett crossed glances with Noah and gestured his head toward Hollis. Noah threw an arm around Hollis’s shoulders and steered him toward the sidewalk. Bennett followed. Carter was close to passing out, but Bennett wanted to get out of retaliation range from the guys at the bar.

  They were in a popular area close to the water, and it wasn’t so late to be deserted. Bennett scanned over their group. All of them looked worse for wear. Blood dotted Carter’s shirt. A tickle had Bennett wiping his own nose, his fingers coming away stained red.

  An unoccupied bench sat in a small grassy area, and Bennett steered them toward it to regroup. Hollis and Carter were deposited side by side.

  “My car. We have to go back for it.” Hollis tried to get up, but he plopped back down, his balance nonexistent.

  “None of us are in any shape to drive. I’ll call a cab.” Bennett stepped away.

  Carter leaned over and heaved, puke splattering his shoes.

  The call made, Bennett went to stand next to Noah, who was looking out over the water. The artificial lights behind them turned the bay black and fathomless. As his adrenaline ebbed, a rhythmic throb in his face and shoulder gained in intensity. Feeling unsteady, Bennett leaned against the light pole.

  “Why the SEALs?” Bennett asked. “Why not college?”

  “According to my dad, college is a waste of money. You don’t need a college degree to farm. My choice was the military or farming. I’m the only son and my dad expects me to take over.”

  “You don’t want that?”

  “Not right now. I’m only nineteen. I want to see the world. Do something important before I get caught up in the day-to-day grind of worrying about the weather and crop prices. You think that makes me a selfish asshole?”

  “Nope. Makes you normal, I’d say. But why the SEALs?”

  “The men in my family have always served. Had an uncle in the First Gulf War. A grandad in Vietnam. All the way back to the American Revolution. Seemed natural to join, and I wanted a challenge. Recruiter told me SEALs was the hardest.” A small self-deprecating laugh emerged like a whisper. “I didn’t know what I was getting into.”

  “Regrets?”

  “I was regretting it hard when I landed in that damn mud pit and strained my shoulder. But now?” He shrugged. “No regrets. What about you? Why the SEALs?”

  Dammit. If he’d been sober, he wouldn’t have allowed curiosity to get the better of him, knowing it could boomerang back around. “I was adopted by an Army veteran. A drill sergeant.”

  It was more than he’d admitted to anyone since he’d joined up. But he wouldn’t go further back than the moment Sarge signed the papers making the adoption legal.

  “Geez. Did he make you square your sheets and spit shine your shoes?”

  The image was so far from reality, Bennett laughed. “Not hardly. He’d turned into one of those hard-core preppers that live off the grid. The smartest SOB I’ve ever met. Taught me how to hunt and survive.”

  “He sounds cool. Why didn’t you go into the Army then?”

  “Wanted to get the hell out of Mississippi. Thought the Navy was the best way to see the world. Sarge was just happy I didn’t end up in jail.”

  “I’ll bet he’s over the moon you made it into the SEAL program.”

  Bennett could nod and leave it there, but more leaked out of his beer-weakened defenses. “He died. A couple of years after I joined up. Massive heart attack. It was a while before his niece got worried and found him, and she buried him quick. I was in the middle of the ocean and couldn’t get back for the funeral.”

  Sarge’s niece had changed Bennett’s destiny when she’d put him with her uncle. Then, she changed it again when s
he’d written to him about her uncle’s death and the money he’d left Bennett. Money he didn’t deserve. It was then he’d decided to go for the SEALs. He had nothing to lose but his life and no one to disappoint but himself.

  “I’m sorry, man.” Noah’s hand on Bennett’s shoulder imparted a sympathy Bennett hadn’t asked for or needed, yet he was grateful nonetheless.

  “It was a long time ago.” The years felt more like weeks in that moment, and he stared into the darkness over the water.

  “Have you been back? To Mississippi, I mean.”

  A honk came from behind them, saving Bennett from giving Noah a big “hell no.”

  A cab waited at the curb. Bennett grabbed Hollis by the upper arm and maneuvered him into the car. Noah did the same with Carter. Bennet took the front seat and prayed no one puked again.

  The cabbie was already on the road, knowing where they were headed based on their uniforms.

  “Yo, Caldwell,” Hollis said.

  “What?” Bennett turned.

  Hollis grinned, blood smeared on his teeth from a split lip. “I can’t believe you waded into that fight. Thought for sure you’d desert us. You came in roaring like a grizzly bear. Scared the shit out of me until I realized you were on our side.”

  “Yeah, well. You might be an asshole, but you’re our asshole. Noah and I couldn’t leave you hanging.”

  Hollis’s head lolled on the headrest. “Thanks, Peaches.”

  Bennett met Noah’s eyes, and they both smiled. Their friendship had set deep roots. Bennett’s mission was still about getting himself through BUD/S, but he would do what he could to make sure Noah got through, too.

  Chapter 7

  Present Day

  Harper had done a very bad thing. Misleading, dishonest, manipulative. Her accounting job required scrupulous honesty, and she did her best daily to set a good example for Ben. That hadn’t stopped her from calling Caldwell Survival School and booking a weekend one-on-one survival lesson with Bennett under her mom’s name.

  Various scenarios had unspooled through her mind before landing on this one. If she called him, then he could hang up and once he had her number he’d ignore her. If she showed up at the survival school unannounced, privacy was an issue. Plus, he could sic Jack London on her. Although the dog looked more likely to lick her to death than bite. Booking Bennett for a weekend seemed the best option.

 

‹ Prev